Outside of Heaven
by Rebellwithoutacause
Summary: "I knew that bastard felt something. He had to. He was human. He couldn't just stand there and stare at what we'd lost and not feel something. I knew him better than he thought I did. I knew him from the farm. When the ice had begun to thaw and his heart had begun to beat." One-shot from Beth's POV during her fight with Daryl in "Still." R&R if you please!


_**Hey guys, so I'm back with another one-shot. Yes. I realize I haven't updated Wolfsong in forever. *ducks justifiably thrown pitch forks* I'm working on it, I swear! But the recent eps have given me MASSIVE feels, and yeah…this is what happens when I get feels. So I hope you guys enjoy. This fic has spoilers for the episode "Still" (I have seen Alone as well, OMG FEEEEEEEELS), so if you haven't seen it, and don't want it spoiled, don't read this. This is pretty in-canon with the show, unlike my previous Daryl/Beth (that doesn't signify a pairing btw) fics, Mortal Endurance and Warm Shadow. Also, I wrote this in 1st person POV because I hardly ever do that and felt like trying it out. I hope you guys enjoy! **_

_**Warnings: Few swears. And feels. **_

**_Disclaimer: I do not own The Walking Dead. If I did, there are things that would be happening that are not happening. But wouldn't it be that way if all the fan girls owned TWD? _**

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I don't know what I was expecting to see when Daryl let the moonshine slide down his throat. He was normally so quiet, so reserved, so removed from everyone around him; maybe I was hoping that it would break him down, so I could see the feeling I hoped really was in there. I knew it had to be, and I was desperate to bring it to the surface. I couldn't let him shut down, for his sake, and for mine. I had to do something. I couldn't be stuck for the rest of my life with a man who couldn't even look at me with the barest modicum of respect or affection for. What did we have left but each other? I couldn't spend the rest of my life fighting monsters and dreaming of the terrified faces of my family if my waking world was a prison to stony silences and blue eyes made of cold slate.

I don't think I expected him to get angry so quickly. I wasn't thinking when I mentioned the prison. I hadn't thought it would have been a trigger, or that it would poke where it was obviously raw. If talking about it didn't make me cry, how it could make a man like Daryl go to pieces? But obviously I was wrong.

The way he grabbed me scared me, there was no way to deny it. The apocalypse had hardened all of us, but it had done a number on the muscles of Daryl's shoulders, arms, and the strength of his grip; he could tear me to pieces with his bare hands if he wanted to. Fear pounded high and hard in my throat as he hauled my outside and yanked me into his chest, the brute strength of his forearm pinning me down. I knew better than to think Daryl would ever lay a hand on me if he was sober. I knew it was just the booze, and even though I was close to terrified of what he might do now that the whiskey had killed his inhibitions, I had to press my advantage. He might never open up again, this might be my only chance.

The anger that roiled through me as he played target practice with the Walker was enough to get me going. When he slung me away and went to grab the arrows to reload his bow, I took my chance. I yanked my knife out and darted past Daryl and stabbed the pinned down stiff through the skull, finally killing it.

"Whatcha' do that for?" Daryl shouted, the words just shy of slurring. "We was havin' fun!"

I rounded on him, and I'm sure a pint size girl like me wasn't that intimidating, so it was all that much more important to not back down.

"Killing them is not supposed to be fun!" I yelled back. "If anyone had found my dad…"

"Don't!" he snarled, glaring at me with vicious anger in his eyes. "That ain't remotely the same!" He stalked towards me, his shoulders rocking back and forth; sweat gleaming off the rippling muscles of his biceps. His breath reeked like the whiskey and we both smelled like sweat, humidity, and filth. There wasn't much left of humanity in his eyes. I could feel the fear rolling through me like ripples in a disturbed pond, but I'd be damned if I let it get the better of me now. My fists clenched as I stared him down.

"What do you want from me girl?" he snapped.

Everything came screaming out at once. I couldn't hold it back anymore. The tension that had been burning between the two of us finally lost control and exploded like lava breaking the top of a volcano clean off. I couldn't stop it. Maybe I was insane for confronting him, but shit, what did I have to lose? This was the whole point anyway. I had to yank all the barbs he was holding out away from him. He was never going to get past it, he was never going to be human again, unless he lost what remained of his defenses. I didn't know what I was getting myself into, and you know what? I didn't care. Because no matter the fall out, it would be better than the poison filled tension between us since we'd run like hell from the blown open hole in our lives.

"I want you to stop acting like you don't give a crap! Like nothing we went through matters to you! Like none of the people we lost meant anything to you!" I knew my shouting might bring Walkers down on us but I couldn't hold it in anymore. I was pissed at him, more so than I think I originally gave myself credit for. When he'd just stood there on those train tracks after seeing people we knew turned into those monsters, no emotion on his face, no words, nothing but stone in his eyes, I'd felt the slowly burning fury underneath the pain. I knew that bastard felt something. He had to. He was human. He couldn't just stand there and stare at what we'd lost and not feel something. I knew him better than he thought I did. I knew him from the farm. When the ice had begun to thaw and his heart had begun to beat.

"Is that what you think?" The anger in his voice was beginning to die, but I knew better than to think it was dead.

"That's what I know." I wished I couldn't have sounded so close to tears, but I couldn't stop it. I was so exhausted from the running and the fighting and holding back all these words that I didn't have the strength in me to sound tough anymore, but I had a few more parting shots.

"It's bullshit!"

I felt like shoving him but I knew better. He was still drunk; he could still hurt me without meaning to. I'm sure my arm was going to bruise from where he'd grabbed me earlier. But I couldn't stop the words that came pouring out. This was just as much my release as it was his, and I wasn't going to let him take it from me.

"I know you look at me and see another dead girl. I'm not Michonne, I'm not Carol, I'm not Maggie." It hurt so bad to say their names, but I did it on purpose. I could see the fire sparking in his eyes. With every single name it burned hotter and brighter, and I had to hope like hell it was burning through the icy wall he'd put up to protect himself. I pressed my advantage even further, unable to contain the emotion anymore. "I survived! I'm not like you or them, but I made it! And you don't get to treat me like crap just cause you're afraid!"

That did it. If there was anything Daryl couldn't stand it was being accused of cowardice. But he was afraid. He was afraid, I could see it so easily, and no matter what he'd been through in the past, it didn't give him a license to treat me like I was some piece of baggage he had to lug around. I had survived. Yes he'd helped me, yes he'd protected me, but I could fight too. I could kill Walkers, I could scavenge, Daddy hadn't raised me to be helpless. I wasn't tough like him or Michonne or Maggie but I wasn't useless. If the stakes hadn't been so desperate I wouldn't have called him out on it. It amounted to kicking a beehive with a steel capped boot, and so I braced myself for the meltdown.

He stalked right into my personal space, so close I could literally feel the heat burning off him. I could see the way he was trembling with barely suppressed rage. If I'd been a man he'd of hit me with his fist as hard as he could, I could tell. I swallowed hard in the back of my throat and did my best not to let the fear show. When he spoke, it was a low, threatening growl, like a feral dog warning someone away from its den.

"I ain't afraid of nothing!"

I took a step back to give us both room to breathe. I could see him trying to decide whether he should come towards me or remain where he was. I couldn't wait, I didn't have the time to figure out whether what I was about to say was going to make it worse or better. To hell with deciding whether it mattered at this point; it had to be said.

"I remember." I lowered my voice and tried to soften my tone. I didn't want to hurt him, I just wanted to end it. "When that little girl came out of the barn. After my mom." I still remembered that day. It haunted my dreams. My mom as a Walker, staggering as a mindless monster, her almost biting me. And then that little girl….that poor little girl, the one they'd all been looking for. The one _he'd_ been looking for. I remember looking at his face when she'd come shuffling out. I'd known then that moment was going to be the one time I might get to see emotion from him. I'd seen it then, and I saw it now. "You were like me." Afraid. Terrified of being alone, petrified of being with someone else, frightened of the whole world and what it could do to the ones you dared to care for. Despondent and desperate for rescue but too ashamed to call out or reach for help. The anger at him, at myself, at what had happened, at the whole damn world came pouring out again, and I'll admit I didn't try that hard to hold it in. I wanted him to know I wasn't stupid, that I saw through his wall, and I'd be damned if he played that stupid game with me. I deserved more than that.

"And now God forbid you ever let anybody get to close!"

That rattled him. I knew it would and in some ways I was glad for it. Glad and afraid all at the same time. The anger poured over him again like being doused with hot water. He bristled and his words flew from his teeth like sparks from a welder's blowtorch.

"To close huh? You know all about that! You lost two boyfriends, you can't even shed a tear!" He was huffing with anger and rage, his accusations spit like poison in my face. Guilt and disgust swept through me and if he saw it, he didn't let it stop him. Not that I expected him to. Daryl dished back exactly what he got, it was something I'd learned about him over time.

"Your whole family's gone and all you can do is go out lookin' for hooch like some dumb college bitch!"

Rage swept through me like the flames that had burned down the barn that awful night we were driven off the farm. How dare he accuse me of not caring? I knew that going out looking for booze to get trashed on didn't make me look like I gave a shit, but that's not what it was about. It wasn't about forgetting or not feeling. No drug or any amount of liquor could ever make me forget what had happened, and I knew that already. I didn't have to explain my reasons to him. He didn't have the right to accuse me now.

"Screw you! You don't get it!"

The last of his control seemed to snap. He shoved himself right into my face, shouting at the top of his lungs, the scratch and growl of his voice ripping through every syllable. Every word was like a dull hacksaw against my bones, shrieking with truth so hurtful I could barely stand there and take it, but I didn't have a choice.

"No you don't get it! Everyone we know is dead!"

I had nothing left but to push back, so I did, as loud as I could. "We don't know that!" I cried. I felt the desperation rising. Everything was falling apart. The pieces were melting in my hands, running through my fingers like molten metal and I didn't know how much longer I could hold on. Not with him shouting the horrible truth I'd refused to consider.

"Might as well be cause you ain't ever gonna see 'em again!" He took a step back from me, his voice still viciously angry. "Rick…you ain't ever gonna see Maggie again!"

He'd deliberately went below the belt. Maybe it was just to hurt me, but I couldn't believe that. Daryl wasn't like that. He wasn't cruel. He said that because he was hurting so badly himself. Someone else had to share the load. He couldn't do it on his own anymore. I could see the cracks beginning to split open wide.

"Daryl, just stop!"

He spun away from me and I tried to grab at him to pull him back, terrified he would shut down on me again. When he felt my hand on his arm he yanked himself away and turned to face the dead Walker still pinned to the tree. He kept talking and now most of the anger died. I could hear the whimper in his voice and I knew it was too much for him to look me in the eye with the last of his strength bleeding out like that.

"The Governor rolled right up to our gates!" He sucked in a breath but he couldn't get himself under control. All I could do was stand there as I watched him crumble. It hurt so bad to see him break apart like that. A man like Daryl was so strong, never relied on anyone for anything, never asked for it to be easier, never asked for anything for himself. It was terrible to see him break.

"Maybe cause I stopped lookin'… maybe cause I gave up, that's on me!"

I could hear the self-disgust and hatred and I think then I became more consciously aware of what was going on. He'd been so shut down all this time because it was too much. He blamed himself for what had happened. How…how could I make this broken man see that none of what happened to us was his fault? That he didn't have to torture himself like this anymore.

"And your dad…." I could hear the tears in his voice but I knew better than to think he'd ever let me see him cry. I don't think Daryl had ever let anyone see him cry. Even when he'd come back to the prison after Merle had been killed, I'd never seen him shed a tear, but we had all known. The way he couldn't speak, the way he couldn't even say his brother's name for weeks on end after that bloody day. We knew. And he knew that we knew, but he was intimidating enough that nobody dared said a word. We just left him to his pain because that's how he liked it. But this…this complete destruction of both our worlds'; it was too much for one person. Maybe together we could take it. I had to hope so because otherwise there was nothing left for us.

"Maybe I coulda done somethin'…"

To hear him so broken broke me too. I did the only thing I could think of; the only thing that had any chance of saving either of us from insanity. I closed the gap between us and wrapped my arms around him tightly and didn't let go. His body stiffened and he tried to pull away from me but I wouldn't let go. I just pushed my cheek down more firmly against his back and held on tighter.

_I'm not going to let you go. _

I wanted to say it out loud, but I had a feeling it would push him over the edge and he would force me to let go, so I just repeated it in my mind over and over again and refused to unwind my arms from around his waist. I could feel his spine curling, his head hanging, his shoulders shaking as the tears spilled down his face. He stood so much taller and broader than me, but in this moment he felt so small in my arms. I knew he'd come back to himself in time, but I'd hold him together until then, no matter how long it took. Underneath all that pain and scar tissue and cigarette roughened voice was one of the best men I'd ever met. I didn't have a lot to compare to, but that didn't matter. This world had showed me the best and worst of humanity. He definitely came out on the best side of the scale.

As I held onto him all the anger I'd had began to melt away, and along with it, most of the pain. There was still a hole blown through the middle of my chest, but the edges didn't feel so ragged now. The wound felt less raw, like a salve was slowly dripping over it and soothing some of the pain. I think maybe it was because I finally felt like I'd managed to bridge a significantly large gap with Daryl.

I wasn't alone anymore.

I stood there holding onto him until the sun fell behind the trees and darkness descended around us. When I felt him straighten his neck at last and his spine begin to uncurl I slowly loosened my grip on him. He scrubbed at his face before he managed to turn around and look at me. For a long time he didn't say a word, he just stood there, watching me. I could see most of the whiskey haze in his eyes was gone. Something else was replacing it, something I didn't understand, but I knew it meant something. The words to ask what it was caught in my throat and so I just stayed quiet. If he wanted me to know, he would tell me. I wouldn't pull him apart anymore, at least not today. Today he'd had enough. I think I had too. I was all but exhausted, emotionally and mentally, and damn the rest of the moonshine looked amazing.

Daryl and I eventually made our way back to the porch and took a seat facing each other. He started messing with his buck knife and I hauled a jar of the moonshine over so I could keep drinking every so often. For a long time we just sat still and watched each other. A tricky sort of peace settled over me. The whiskey made me feel warm even though the temperature of the air was dropping quickly. A slow smile was working its way over my face, probably in direct response to the alcohol, but also because I think I realized something important.

I wasn't alone anymore.

Daryl would never be a picnic. He'd never be the type to shoot the breeze very much, maybe he couldn't be trusted when drunk. He was filthy, blood-soaked, jagged, tough as nails, gritty, and so rough around the edges it could cut glass. But as I continued watching him as he watched the world, I could also see everything else underneath. Everything that made him a man I could trust with my life. A man who I respected, and who respected me in return. Daryl didn't just hand his respect out freely. It always had to be earned. Somehow, through all the shit we'd slogged through today, I'd earned it. I had to remember to stop trying to predict him, because I never could. Maybe because he couldn't predict himself. The only thing I knew was I was grateful for today.

I wasn't alone anymore. I took another sip of moonshine and let my grin get even bigger, blush creeping up my face when Daryl caught my eye. I could see the question in his eyes, along with his willingness to talk. If he only knew what I was really thinking- that he was no knight in shining armor, but that he might just have been the best thing to ever happen to me. He made me tough. He made me brave. He made me want to fight. I knew all too well about the cold, numb sensation of just wishing death would show up and strangle me in my sleep so I didn't have to get up and fight through the pain anymore. He held a fire that burned all that away. I don't think I have a bat's chance in hell of surviving this thing to the very end, but damn if I wouldn't try, all to feel the heat of those flames. Because Daryl would never stop pushing. He'd never stop surprising me. He'd never lay down and die, and he'd never let me do the same.

"There's no heaven, and there's no hell," I said in a sing-song voice. "There's just us." I raised the jar of moonshine up towards him as if I was toasting and drank again.

He fixed me with a look and snorted with soft laughter. "Yer drunk, Beth." But his eyes still sparked with that un-nameable look again.

I wasn't alone.

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_**A/N: The title comes from a line off of the song 'Absolution' by The Pretty Reckless off their new album 'Going To Hell.'**_

_**"Boy's on the outside of heaven, outside of heaven, but I could be wrong…"**_


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